


wolf boy

by orphan_account



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M, its called love sis, jon has a lot of it for robb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 09:32:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12407745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jon wonders if he could ever find it in himself to deny Robb anything. The notion itself is almost laughable; if Robb asked Jon to catch the sun and bring it to him, then Jon would burn his fingertips in order to hand it to him.





	wolf boy

**Author's Note:**

> ahhhhh my angels honestly i love them so fuckin much god

Robb’s smile is something to be challenged, Jon thinks. It’s sharp yet sweet, teeth glinting white against the soft pink of his lips.

Wolf-boy, Jon thinks, amazed.

His eyes are blue, clear and glimmering with promises and bursting with life and wonder, as if he’s thinking about a million things at once. Jon knows if he stares at them too long he might get lost and never find his way out.

Perhaps he doesn’t want to find his way out.

“Let’s go, I’m starving,” Robb says, fingers intertwining with Jon’s. He makes no move to sit up.

They’re sprawled on Robb’s bed, shirtless beneath the furs. Have been for the past hour or so.

“Go where?” Jon mumbles, not having paid attention to what Robb was saying in the first place.

“To the dining hall,” he says, “it’s supper time and mother will lose her head if I am late.”

“She might,” Jon replies, turning to face Robb.

He peers at Jon through his lashes, smile never leaving his clean shaven face, his cheek dimple barely visible. His nose is slightly red and his forehead is warm from his fever. He’s always been susceptible to getting ill, especially when the slightest change in the weather occurs.

“What are you staring at?” He asks quietly and Jon leans over, kissing Robb’s forehead. 

“Nothing,” he shrugs and then offers Robb a half, crooked smile.

Robb is light, a bright sun in Jon’s life and Jon is merely a moon, orbiting him in hopes to catch even the slightest bit of his warmth. Perhaps if it weren’t for Robb, Jon knows he might not have ever felt like he belongs. He never has, but being with Robb makes those feelings go away, even if they’re only gone a short while.

“Will you kiss me?” Robb asks lazily, voice cracking.

“I can’t, you’re ill,” Jon replies, fingers carding gently through Robb’s

“You can,” Robb insists, “I’m not even that ill. The maester said I should be well in the next day or two.”

Jon considers it; he might catch the fever from Robb but Robb’s watching him with his big eyes and his lip just barely jutting out into a pout.

“Alright,” he sighs and Robb sniffs, grinning. He leans in immediately, clever fingers wrapping around the base of Jon’s neck, pulling him in.

Jon’s breathless and they haven’t even touched properly; Robb’s fingers tighten around his neck and he rolls over, closer, pressing their mouths together.

Robb’s kisses are like his smiles, sweet and soft and surprising. He slides his tongue against the seam of Jon’s lips, pulling a soft noise from them.

Jon rests a hand on Robb’s hip, thumb rubbing idly against his hipbone.

He chuckles when Robb pulls away to sniff, licking his lips before he kisses Jon again. His mouth is warm and slick and soft; Jon sucks gently on his bottom lip, again and again until Robb whimpers softly.

“We need to go,” he says breathlessly, hand still wrapped tightly around the nape of Jon’s neck. Jon moves his hand, fingertips brushing away the auburn curls falling into his pale eyes.

“Alright,” he replies, pulling his hand away from Robb, despite part of him screaming to keep Robb here, under the furs where Jon can hold him and kiss him and whisper wonderful ideas in his ear.

Robb stands, lean muscle rippling when he stretches, arms over his head and makes a soft noise of relief. Jon swallows, unable to tear his gaze away from the expanse of pale, freckled skin and the two dimples that sit deep on the small of his back.

“Don’t stare, pervert,” Robb turns, smiling lazily as he tosses on a loose shirt.

Jon clears his throat, “can’t help it, love,” he says with a laugh and Robb shakes his head, heat rising slowly up his neck.

“I hate it when you call me that,” Robb says half heartedly; Jon knows it’s because it has an effect on him, a wonderful effect in his opinion.

“Sorry, love,” he grins, standing up and heading towards Robb.

Robb backs away, “get away, pervert,” he says between stifled laughs and Jon surges forward, arms wrapping tightly around Robb’s waist, face buried in the crook of his neck.

Robb let’s out another laugh, arms sliding around Jon’s neck to stable them both as he attempts to wriggle out of Jon’s embrace.

“I have to go,” he says unconvincingly and presses a soft kiss into Jon’s hair.

He rubs a hand over Jon’s shoulder, soothing and comforting and familiar and Jon realizes if he could ever call something home, it would be the feeling of being in Robb’s arms.

“Will you to go to the Godswood with me tomorrow?” Robb asks, fingers never stopping as they massage over Jon’s upper back. 

Jon thinks for a moment; he can already see Lady Catelyn’s disapproving expression but Robb voice is low and sweet and Jon sighs.

“Yes, of course,” he replies.

Jon wonders if he could ever find it in himself to deny Robb anything. The notion itself is almost laughable; if Robb asked Jon to catch the sun and bring it to him, then Jon would burn his fingertips in order to hand it to him.

He releases Robb slowly, kissing the corner of his mouth. Jon begins to pick up his own clothing, scattered among the sheets as Robb finishes dressing. When they’re both finished, he opens the door of Robb’s chambers slowly, glancing out for anyone passing by.

When he finds the hall empty, Jon quickly slips through the door, blowing Robb a kiss as he leaves. He can hear Robb chuckle as he disappears from the hall.

Robb joins the family in the dining hall nearly 10 minutes later. He looks over to Jon, eyes shiny and bright as he passes by him to take his seat with his family. His mother, all sharp angles and clipped words, softens as she grasps Robb’s hand, fingers skimming his forehead as she undoubtedly checks on his fever.

They make eye contact briefly and Robb smiles, all teeth and dimples and Jon shakes his head, amazed.

Wolf-boy, he thinks again and turns back to his meal.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope u liked it lol been writing them a lot lately so i have a lot to post !!


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